I think I read somewhere that the controlled release Oxycontin I take Targin. 20/10 and 10/5 (I take 30mg - a combination of the two) that I'm on is less likely to cause troubles with addiction than the Short Release (I have Endone). I think it was on some kind of message board.
Stupid message board. For the second time, I've missed the tablets. This time because I ran out. I forgot to think anything of it until I'd been jittering, wanting to crawl out of my own skin and stemming back tears for hours. Took me a while, but I cottoned on.
It's so odd. It doesn't feel like a psychological issue to me (which is usually the kind of addiction/obsessive behaviour I worry about). I wasn't thinking about Oxy. I wasn't thinking about pain. My mind wasn't in that direction at all. And I'm not in a particularly large amount of pain, either. In fact, today is better (pain-wise) than it has been for the past 2 weeks (my spinal surgeon wants to refer me to a hip surgeon. Sigh).
So why am I feeling this way? I know it's obvious. And some of the reading I've done this afternoon obviously shows that the message board I had read (wasn't a medical board. Just people talking about their experiences on Targin, among other opiods) was wrong.
I had always thought of addiction as just a psychological thing. I don't mean that in any way to minimise it. And I don't for a moment mean to say that what I'm feeling right now is anything compared to what other people struggle with when they come off harder drugs. But this is purely physical. It doesn't matter how mentally strong I was feeling. It doesn't matter that I am counting down the days to see my GP to be taken OFF all Opiods (2 days. I only have to wait 2 more days).
It doesn't matter that I honestly feel like my life is getting better every day. That things are really starting to work out for us, for me. That I'm on top of just about every aspect of my life.
My body apparently has other ideas. How is a person supposed to get off these drugs? I've been slowly weaning (well, weaned then adjusted and stayed on a lower dose for 2m) but the way I feel right now, I feel like this is going to be physically a lot harder than I had anticipated. And I've only been on it for 10 weeks.
So today has been a write-off. I have packed a total of one box. I've been feeling weepy and morbid. So I did what I've been promising myself for 18 months I wouldn't do.
|Need to get a text block on my phone. Or better, remove the numbers?|
I sent messages to my two (former) best friends. (For those new to the game. There was no fight. Circumstances changed for all 3 of us literally within about a 3 week period. Our lives got busier and far more complicated. Add to that that one of them has an ASD son who decided he doesn't want a thing to do with my ASD son - therefore making 'hanging out' very trickly - night impossible, and things fell apart. In a big way).
As far as I hear, the other two members of our threesome are still inseparable (it helps that they live on the same street. While I'm now 3 suburbs away, legally blind with no driver's license). But somehow, despite me honestly fighting for it, I managed to be the one left behind.
And you'd think that after 2 years (that's about how long it's been - Dec 2010) I'd be over it. I'm not. I'm not even nearly over it. In fact I can honestly say that there hasn't been a day since that I've not thought about them. It's pathetic to say this but if they knocked on my door, I'd do anything to get it all back in a heartbeat. The year and a half or so we were a trio was probably the happiest I've ever been. It was the best balance I'd ever had.
And I sent them messages. Just saying I hoped that they were well, that I missed them, that Alexander missed their boys. That I hoped G (C's daughter) was getting excited about her first day of Prep next year (we always loved that Sammy and G would start together). I asked them if they were doing ok, were happy.
Nothing. Of course there's nothing. They moved on. That's what normal people do.
Right now, I'd give anything for normal.